


Seamless Lengths

by CrazyLaughter



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Fluff, Homophobia, Hunger Games AU, M/M, Marriage, Mentions of Sex, Sad Ending, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 16:19:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4712465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyLaughter/pseuds/CrazyLaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Hunger Games AU where Harry is the teacher's son and Louis is the teacher's pet. It pretty much escalates from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seamless Lengths

** Seamless Lengths **

This wasn't supposed to happen.

It was a common statement between meaningless gossip in the town square, it reverberates. A useless sentence uttered repeated amongst the people of District 8, irrespective of man or woman, young or old.

But no one knew the inside of it. All everyone saw were the gashes, cuts and all the flaws -ones that they've inflicted on them, by harsh words, of course. The inside was full of shared smiles, syrup-sweet kisses, binding promises and things that'd probably take an endless amount of books to fill up, if written.

Because all the cold things didn't matter once they saw each other. Again, no one knew this.

Louis first saw Harry when he was five. The first day of school was as fresh as dew in his memory. He was the small smooth-haired boy who sat in front of the class, glancing around with glassy eyes and a winning smile. He paid attention to everything while Louis found it difficult to concentrate when there was a beautiful boy with apple cheeks he could stare at.

He didn't know till the next day that Harry was actually the teacher's son. He went to give Ms. Anne a piece of apple pie early in one morning. (it wasn't excellent, but it was all his parents could afford for his step-dad's birthday) It was only three of them back then, before Charlotte, Felicite, Phoebe and Daisy popped up, and there was little food and many mouths to feed.

He bumped into someone. When the phosphenes around his head dissolved, he saw the beautiful boy again. "Oops," Louis slurred, peeking at the package in his hand to see if he had damaged it. Nope, still perfect.

The boy stared at him with stars in his eyes, twinkling evergreen. "Hi," he said, all his teeth on a delightful display. "Where a'e you going?"

"Ms. Anne," Louis replied timidly, glancing at his shoes.

Harry's eyes widened, bigger than their already adorably large size. "My mummy? You want to see my mummy?"

"Ms. Anne is your mummy?" Before he was given an answer, he was pulled through the corridors into one of the staffrooms. He saw Ms. Anne, running her finger over one of the textbooks, lenses flying before her eyes. Step-Daddy wore them sometimes, to help him see better.

Ms. Anne glanced up, "Well, what have you got here, Harry?" She asked, and Louis looked at the boy. This boy had an actual name. Harry. Louis mouthed it to himself, liking the way it rolled over his tongue. "Louis, what are doing here, dear?"

"He wanted to see you, mummy," Harry answered for him, in a sweet voice.

"Yes, Ms. Anne. I wanted to give you this," he stepped forward carefully, and slid the package onto her table next to her book.

Ms. Anne exaggeratedly sniffed the pie and smiled, she looked like Harry in many ways. "Why, thank you, Louis. This is sweet, just like you." When Louis giggled, she smiled wider, mirroring Harry. "Harry, why don't you and Louis go out and eat the pie and play around? You have one hour before school begins."

Harry agreed immediately, taking the package into one hand and pulling at Louis with another. He dragged Louis to their empty classroom and plopped down in his seat. He fragilely opened the package, separated the transparent layers, and put it between them. "We can share it, Lou."

"Lou?" he asked, tilting his head.

"That's your name, isn't it, silly?" He poked at the pie, sticking it in his mouth and humming.

"It is, Harry."

"How do you know my name?" Harry asked.

"It's your name, isn't it, silly?" Louis split the piece of pie into two pieces, taking the smaller piece for himself. And if Harry noticed, he didn't say anything. He just smiled with his eyes for the whole hour, an inerasable smile playing on his lips.

**ıllıllı**

Harry and Louis were HarryandLouis for quite a time. Before they drifted apart in 6th grade, because apparently Louis had cooler friends (which consisted of Niall and a trashcan) and Harry was too brainy for him. Oh brother, Harry always thought, rolling his eyes. Louis always brought up the age topic, mostly to irritate Harry. The thing was, Harry was originally two years younger than Louis, but since Ms. Anne was his mother, he had early lessons and was more knowledgeable than the rest of their batch.

(And, maybe that's why Louis will never admit that he's jealous)

But, they knew that saw each other in the hallways. Harry would always feel the burn of Louis' gaze on him while he slung his backpack over his shoulder after the bell rang. He remembered feeling regret in the pit of his stomach. Because he _missed_ him, and he knows that the feeling is mutual. But didn't think it would change.

He knew he'd never get Louis to talk to him like before. He just knew it, because both of them kept waiting for the other. He knew that time would fly with waiting. He didn't have the guts himself, so he waited too.

It was a crisp morning that day, Harry remembers. The day looked splendid, but the mood wasn't. It was the day of the Reaping. And nothing else could scare a twelve year old into hiding. He remembers the dread that settled in his stomach the moment his eyes opened, the unstoppable erratic movements of his heart, feeling his soul in his throat- almost like he might vomit it out.

So, before anyone had woken up that day, he ran out. Ran like he was after the Forbidden fruit, ran like Death came to capture him. He stopped, cheeks wildly red, behind the old bakery that sold delicious cakes. He never had the luxury to taste one, but Louis and him came there often. When they were kids, they used sit behind the back wall of it, and smell the aroma of Niceness. Nobody came by there. Ever.

Harry curled up there that day, sobbed his poor heart out. He didn't want to go into the Arena, where he'd be met with gruesome sights. He was too sensitive for all of this. He had snot over his winded arms, tears in his puffy eyes when he saw the outline of somebody before him.

"Harry?" Now, how could you forget that melodious voice? Of course, it was Louis. Harry immediately felt self-conscious, coiled in further more. He couldn't see Louis, through the blur, but only one thought struck him. Did Louis still come here? Was it because he missed him?

"Harry," Louis repeated more firmly, now seated on the ground across him. He tugged at Harry's hands, prying them from clamping over his eyes. "Listen, it's going to be alright."

Harry shook his head, bending his head, so that Louis wouldn't see his tomato face that would had gone blotchy. Louis dropped one of his hands, his hand now going to Harry's cheek. He doesn't wipe the tears away- instead, strokes his cheekbones where the evidence of crying spread out to evaporate. "Hey," he said softly, hardly away from a whisper. Harry doesn't say anything. _"Hey,"_ he emphasizes again. "Don't worry, Haz. You never get reaped on the first year."

Harry shook his head again. Because people had told him this. Even Mu did. But, it still scared him. After a while, Louis talked again. "You won't get reaped on the first year," Louis said sharply. "And even if you do, I'll volunteer for you."

The breath got knocked out of Harry's throat. He finally looked up, his vision slowly un-fog. Louis' face looked so sincere, he wants to freeze it and burn it on the inside of his eyelids, so that it stays there forever even after closing his eyes the final time. "You can volunteer, you know? I can take your place in the Games." Louis says softly. His hand was now in the latter's hair, soothingly move it back and forth. And feels safe, really safe. "I won't let anything happen to you."

Harry was too stunned for any words, so let himself be held in Louis' arms, rocked back and forth, till the roaring cries in his throat have dissipated. Then, when he opened his eyes when relief flooded him, there's no one. No one in front of him. He pondered if he had imagined it, but he could feel the musk of Louis' scent around him, the sweat printed into his hands. He knew he wasn't dreaming.

When everybody met in school before the Reaping, Harry tried to approach him. But, Louis was back to ignoring him, not even sparing him a tiny glance. Harry might have felt his chest wither a little at that, but it was nothing he couldn't bear.

After the reaping, he remembers grinning like it was going to split his face into two, when he hadn't been Reaped. He remembers feeling content that Louis didn't have to join the stage of the Reaped for him. Still feeling safe.

**ıllıllı**

Only, then, when he didn't expect it to be, that it happened.

Harry was seated on of the barstools at _Patty's Hot Broth_ , his elbows on the bar, blowing at the steam wavering from the hot bowl of groosling broth that was under his chin. He was flirting, at least attempting at it with Zayn, Patty's son. Harry Styles was thirteen, but didn't know how to flirt. What a shame. 

With more broken flirting, erupted the giggles. Even Myra, Zayn's girlfriend had joined in for a round and surrendered when Harry went for the not-so-subtle _Are you from District 12, because I'm about to make you mine._ Everybody around him stared at him like he was mental. Which he reckoned he was in some way.

From the corner, he saw someone slide into the stool next to him. "What are the odds of me being in your favour?" Harry's jaw clenched at the sound of the voice. Louis. Again. How many times will he abruptly make spontaneous conversation and leave, Harry thought, thinking of the incident of last year's Reaping.

He lifted his head up, to meet eyes with the known stranger. Louis looked exactly like the way he did an year ago. His blue eyes twinkled with jubilation, his mouth quirked to one side in that same charming half smile. His elbows were arranged in the same way as Harry's, as if waiting for an example.

Harry didn't answer his question, though. With his raspy and suddenly-not-masculine voice, he says, and half whispers. "I think I've been stung by a tracker-jacker. Because I must be hallucinating to see you here."

Louis' face crumpled at that, something Harry wanted to turn away from and also, keep staring at. He hung his head, exhaling. By the time, Zayn had disappeared somewhere so Harry couldn't even take refuge. "I-I...I'm sorry, Harry."

"Sorry doesn't change the last few years," Harry stated, although not sternly.

"I know. I know. It's just..." Louis faltered that even Harry wondered if this was the same confident and strong Louis he had once known. Otherwise, was he the only one who made him this way? All flustered? It sounds oddly comforting. "Can we start again?"

"And pretend nothing happened? No thanks. Your past is what shapes you, Lou, and I'm not letting anything from my past go, even if it's the tiniest of things." Harry answers, and he doesn't know since when he was so bold and fearless. Since when words flowed out of him without stutter.

"C'mon, Harry. I've accepted my mistake and I've come to correct it. Give this chap a chance."

"I gave you a chance three years ago, and I waited for just as long. You've missed it and it's not my fault you couldn't see it. If you really want this, you'll work for it." With that, Harry hopped off his stool, swaying his hips away. Not turning around, biting back a smirk, he called out, "I'm hard to please."

 _Happy Remorse Games_ , Harry thought in a Capitol accent when he came into the air outside. _May the odds be ever in your favour!_

The next day at school, Harry turned up to see a large group of the student body gathered near the main bulletin board outside the staffroom. Even his Mum had on a face of worry when he got there. When he gave her a look of questioning, she pointed to the board, frowning even more. So, he pushed himself between the people and caught a glimpse of the large piece of white paper stuck askew on it. **"I'M SUCH AN IDIOT FOR GIVING UP ON HARRY STYLES. A STUPID PIECE OF CRAP FOR NOT STICKING BY HIM. I ACCEPT THAT I'VE BEEN NOTHING BUT THE KING OF DOUCHES. FORGIVE ME. -LOU"** it said, that almost Harry burst out laughing. He appreciated the concern, almost let him win. But instead, he scribbled **_"Not enough -xxH"_** at the bottom and walked out.  

The second day however, was much more eventful than the previous. Louis hadn't shown for class, which was surprising since he promised he would be there for Harry. Harry sat down in his usual place in the front row. They had a combined class, one of the lower classes joining there's. All was normal till someone tapped his shoulder. "Harry, right?" the person asked. Harry nodded, glancing at Liam. Though he was technically older than Harry, he was a year lower in school (perks of being teacher's son) Liam was his friend in school, the two kept to themselves despite hidden affection. "I'm Niall," the boy said, smiling like a thousand suns. _As if_   Harry didn't know him. "Louis told me to give this to you."

Harry took the piece of paper Niall held out and tentatively opened it. _Hey, Harry,_  it read. _If you received this, I owe Niall one. So, yeah... Will you take me back? -Lou._ He huffed, looking at Niall with his eyebrows furrowed. "What is it?" Liam piped up.

"Nothing," he muttered. Then said to Niall, "Tell him that it isn't enough."

Niall's smile melted. "Seriously mate, give him a chance. He hasn't tried this hard for anything else." When Harry pursed his lips, he continued. "If you're wondering...it isn't his fault. He chose to come to me because," he gulped painfully. "Louis' going to kill me for telling you this. He thought...He thought he wasn't good enough for you."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

Niall looked down, then up again. "Just- listen. I mean, talk to him, Harry. Everyone deserves a second chance." He stalked off, leaving both of them puzzled.

"Any idea what's going on?" Liam asked after a while. When Harry shook his head, he didn't poke. "Anyway, did you do the homework in Textile Science?" So, they stuck to doing their homework. But, through-out the day, Harry received notes from random people he walked past in the corridors. Each saying the same _"Will you take me back?"_

On the third day, Harry had come to school early to help his mum out on stacking the test papers of the Grade 11's. An hour before the student would usually begin to file in, he thought of mopping up a few classrooms for the sake of it, when suddenly he was pulled by the arm into an empty classroom. He almost screamed out of the panic that coursed through him. But, a hand clamped over his mouth. "Relax, it's me."

Harry slumped at the sound of Louis' voice. "Wahaa?" He removes his hand over the latter. "What the?!"

"Sorry, had to do that," Louis sheepishly scratches the back of his neck, exhaling. "I arranged a little something."

"What-" Harry stops when his jaw drops open. A few feet away, there is a custom-made set. A set of mini chairs are placed across each others, separated by an upturned crate in the middle. Kinda like a dinner table.

Don't tell Louis, but, he was impressed.

"Being a proper gentleman now, aren't you?" Harry says coyly, letting himself be led by the older boy and pushed into a chair.

"If you think I should be," Louis says lowly, taking a seat himself. Before him, there is single piece of cake. Clearly homemade. He must have noticed Harry that saw. "I'm sorry it looks useless. This was the most I could do."

Harry said the most cliché-est thing. "It's perfect."

"Yeah, I tried to make it look like the first time." That's when it hits Harry. Louis tried to remake their first meeting. He feels like a freight train is sitting on his shoulders, and his heart bursts with something he didn't know he could feel.

He smirked, "We can share it, Lou,"

Louis grinned, and it got wider as he played along. "Lou?"

"That's your name, isn't it, silly?" Harry said.

"It is, Harry," he said. With that, he broke his terribly crumbly cake and pushed the bigger part towards him.

Harry stopped him by his wrist, sliding it back to him and taking the smaller one for himself. "This time, I'll let you win."

"Have I, though?" Louis asked, his voice small and hesitant. "Have I won?"

Harry's eyes lit up like a million lanterns fused. Like their warmth was squeezed into juice and poured into his face. "I think you have."

When the same day, Niall finds them sitting in the same seat, with the same kind of smiles, he doesn't say anything. He just shakes his head and slumps his bag next to Liam's.

**ıllıllı**

For not being reaped again, they decided to rebel. The woods were hardly a long walk away, and they looked beautiful, concealing the sky with vibrant canopies and the sounds of birds echoing through out. They were too beautiful to stay away from.

Louis was brave enough to steal molded rubber from the market. He surprised Harry by taking him by the electric fence, and harmlessly wrenching it open. The rubber around his hand didn't turn him to ash and besides, the electricity was hardly on, considering the fact that they lived in one of the poorest districts. Poor, but happy.

There was a hole big enough for a lanky fourteen-year-old and a sassy sixteen-year-old to fit in one by one. So, they came whenever they could, moving the wire the way they could, then leaving no evidence that they were there.

"Liam told me something today," Harry muttered, shifting his head up to look the latter straight in the face, having put his head in his lap.

Louis hummed, carding his fingers through his hair. "Your hair is turning curly, Haz."

"Louis," Harry prompted.

"Sorry, what did he say?"

"That he and Danielle. They. Um, they did it," Harry stammered

Louis sounded surprised. "Yeah? Its too young, don't you think? I mean, he's only fifteen."

Harry shrugged, watching him twist his curly hair around his fingers. "Lou, why don't you have a lover?"

Louis' shoulders slumped at the question, his fingers stopped moving in his hair. "I don't know, Harry. Maybe because I haven't loved anyone yet." He paused, glanced at him. "Why the sudden question?"

"I don't know..." Harry trailed off. "You do know that Hannah keeps staring at you in class?" When Louis doesn't say anything, he huffs indignantly. "You could give her a chance."

"What's the point of giving her a chance, when I don't feel anything for her?" Louis asked rhetorically, as he looks ahead now, in a daze, clearly wanting out from the conversation.

"But, you never know, anything could happen. What if you're actually meant to be?"

"Don't tell me you've been following romances now, Haz. That's why you're talking like this, aren't you?" Louis scoffed, tugging hard -not too much- on a curl. "How could I end up loving her, when my mind is on something else?"

"And, what exactly is your mind on?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me."

"No, skive off."

_"Louis."_

"Yes, Harry?"

Harry pulled on Louis' sleeve to get his attention. When their eyes met, he pouted. "Please." Louis sighed, as if he couldn't resist Harry's face (he still can't). He didn't move his gaze away, but it looked forlorn. He gulped, as if he was stuck in a bad situation, which Harry was sure he wasn't. Exaggeration. God. "Hurry up, Lou."

Louis looked him straight in the eye like he was taking a look into his soul. His irises were gleaming, a tiny close-lipped smile with only one corner of his mouth hitched up.  His thumb caressed his cheek, just an inch of it. His voice was so sincere, so sweet when he answered. "I keep thinking about...about how it would feel like to- to kiss you."

Just like that, the breath was knocked out of Harry. He laid stiff, head still in the latter's lap, gaze not interrupted, like a small twitch could ruin the whole position, or bring out the tension. Then, Louis bent down, inches away from Harry's mouth. The green-eyed boy was completely gobsmacked. He never noticed he felt the same till Louis mentioned. Never noticed how Louis' eyelashes flicker when he moved his eyes. Or how iridescent his eyes are or how relieving the whole thing felt.

Just as Louis was about let their lips brush, Harry tilted his head. "Not now, Lou," he whispered, his voice slightly quivering, but also regretting for not taking the chance. He sat up as Louis jerked back, facing him with a guilty face.

Louis shook his head, gathering himself up. He doesn't look Harry in the eye now. "Urm, I just remembered I had to go help out Mum with the twins. She asked." He began to stride away.

Harry jumped up. "But, you never help her out."

Louis would generally sass him back or even shove him for that remark. This time, doesn't. "Might as well start now," he said quietly, increasing the speed of his walk.

"Lou!" Harry exclaimed, right at his heels. "Wait, Lou, I-"

When he reached him, he pulled him back by the wrist, to find Louis frowning at the ground. His brain went haywire when it happened. His arms had a mind of their own, when he smacked Louis against the trunk of the nearest tree. Before coming into his personal space and latching his mouth onto the other's.

Louis let out a small of noise of revelation at that until his eyes shut alongside Harry's. They were not the best kissers and neither of them were experienced in such talents. There was inaccuracy and sloppiness everywhere and the obvious absence of finesse. Their teeth bumped into each other and their noses fought. But, when Harry pulled away and let a look of bewilderment cover his feature, he wasn't thinking all that. He just couldn't choose between oxygen and Louis' lips. It's a difficult decision.

"You said not now?" Louis questioned, breathing heavily, but still in the state of astonishment.

"Your indecisiveness has rubbed off on me," Harry said straight out, his survey not wavering. Then added, with utmost seriousness. "Just like your saliva and germs." For emphasis, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

When Louis threw his head back to release that beautiful melody of a laugh, Harry smiled to himself and slipped an arm around his waist. It was new, almost the same he did the day before, but different in a sense.

So, the pages to their book flipped without salty tears or ripped ends. Probably because it's always calm before a storm. They did tell some people. Some meant their families, Niall and Liam. Zayn found out too when he walked in on one of their enthusiastic-tongue-tasting session. He let them have their private time in one of their empty cupboards. Nobody was disgusted when they told them, because they had seen it coming.

Outsiders however, those who didn't know, scrutinised them with judgemental eyes. They acted like they didn't care, even though behind each other's backs they did. Everything felt in place when they were in each other's arm. Like, a lock clasped them together or how an enigma took it's place. All their tears dried out when they saw each other's smiles. This was enough, they thought.

They didn't know it started getting serious with the passing years. They managed to hide for two years, until people noticed how fond there were. Same gender romanticism were prohibited in Panem. Only the dead ones knew if the Capitol found out. But, it wasn't something they asked for. Harry didn't ask to fall in love with Louis and Louis didn't ask to fall in love with Harry. It just happened and you can't help it.

They were aware that they were meant to be, that they knew it wasn't an idle status thing. It meant laying out each other's heart and having them stomped over, no matter what. They couldn't tell anybody, they couldn't go out and be in love for the world to see. So, they thought they could turn their bodies into storybooks. Harry insisted tattoos were marvellous, but Louis would smile and ask him for the money. They were a poor district, getting cosmetic alterations meant that they had to be rich. That didn't bring the younger one down, though. In empty hours, he usually sat and drew out diagrams of the tattoos they would probably get in the fairly distant future. Louis would laugh and then ruffle his hair when Harry would shove the drawings in his face, all chuffed.

Trouble doesn't come telling you. Louis didn't sense it either that day. He was too happy that he received his first wages after his first month as a tailor, taking after his mum. Only having started with his work, he'll pocket more when the Games start. Being nineteen meant freedom. Being nineteen meant he could spoil Harry with the smallest of things. So, that day, he sat at one of the barstools at Patty's, a bowl of stew under his chin, talking to Zayn.   

"You know, Zayn," Louis said quietly, fiddling with his stew as he looked down. "Do you think Harry'd say yes if I asked him to marry me?"

Zayn abruptly stopped wiping the wet bowls, the dishcloth almost falling out his hand. He glanced at Louis with slightly wide eyes. "Are you serious? Aren't you both too young?"

Louis snorted, "You said that about sex too, look who's getting action behind the haystack."

Zayn choked, turning a light shade of pink. "Uhm, please don't tell anyone."

He laughed, "Calm down, lad."

"He'll say yes, Lou, I'm sure of that. But, you know it's illegal to get married so young. You gotta do all the signing at the Capitol and all."

"We've been married in my head long ago, Zayn," Louis smiled to himself softly, feeling his insides so oozy. "Besides, who's going to go and sign all those dumb papers. It's the bond that's important, those papers can be destroyed without effort. We can do it with The Flaming Ritual." When Zayn gives him a puzzled face, he smirked. "You know...the whole sharing food thing first and then have an explicit night where _tearing_ off your clothes is a must and you have to burn them the next day."

Zayn looked flustered. "That's. That technique is quite-"

"Hot," Louis smirked, blowing the steam off his stew to accentuate his term.

"Move out of that place, dunrugg," the gruff voice said, interrupting their conversation. Louis' jaw clenched, but he didn't look back. Dunrugg was an offensive word for a same-sex romanticist. For a societal shame. He was not going to let that get to him.

Instead, he looked to his right. An empty spot. "You can sit on this one, it's not taken."

"I said move, dunrugg!"

"And, if I don't?" Louis finally turned around, his eyes blazing with anger. It was one of the senior Peacekeepers.

The Peacekeeper had a dancing moustache and it danced more dangerous with anger. "I'll tell you alright," he took a fist of Louis shirt, and pulled him close enough to smell his onion breath. "You want to feel it in your gut?"

Louis tried to maintain posture, struggling with his words. "I s-suggest you put me down. The least you, you could for being a citizen of Pa-Panem is give respect to the ones that make you your clothes."

The man began to boil. "I'm sorry, sir. This is strictly unacceptable. This is a family place, and I will not entertain any acts of violence. Peacekeepers are there to maintain peace, not destroy it. I will have to ask you to leave," Zayn said in the most polite voice, so in control, though Louis could see the anger in his eyes.

The Peacekeeper cursed and stormed out of the place, making him exhale out a sigh of relief. After that, Louis ran home faster than he ever did, knowing that the war he started won't be over any time soon. If not now, some time. He forgot when he saw Harry.

(And somewhere, in the middle of the night, Zayn was woken up from his precious slumber by the banging of his front door. He got ready to scream at the person on the other side, only to reveal a ear-to-ear grinning Louis who tackled him into a hug. _"He said yes, Zayn, he said yes!"_ Zayn smiled because he already knew.) 

**ıllıllı**

Harry was setting a few wild lilies into a chipped mug to put on the empty table. His apron was dirty, but it didn't phase his mood. He still attended school for those two cheated years. It ended usually an hour before the best time of the evening. They'd taken up a abandoned cottage behind Victor's Village. It had a secret pond behind, a small channel from the lake shore supplying to it. It was covered with weeds, flowers and grass. It wasn't the best, but it was theirs and they could call it their home.

He was wiping his soil-caked fingers on a cloth when he heard Louis' voice. "Harry! Harry to-be Tomlinson, hurry up and come here!"

Harry rolled his eyes, following the voice to the front door (there was no door, but they pretended it was there) to see Louis smiling with a twinkle in his eye. "It's still Styles, don't tie me down yet."

"You wish you were tied down by now," Louis's smile didn't waver. He surged forward, urgently pressing his lips against Harry's, as if taking all he can.

"Whoa!" Harry pulled back, scrunching his nose. "What's gotten into you? Something happen at work?"

Louis didn't say anything, he pulled his satchel off his shoulder and handed it to him. "Why don't you wash up and check that."

Harry wordlessly took it from his fiancé, holding it cautiously with the strap. He placed iton the table, running to the pond with a pail. After tidying up, he came back to find Louis sitting on one of the chairs next to their cot and going through the morning paper. He smiled upon seeing him. "Go on, take a peek."

Harry twisted his mouth with suspicion, eyeing the satchel a bit warily. He toppled down on the floor, next to the table and across Louis. He could smell the soot from the old fireplace a few feet away, he was supposed to wash those cinders. Ignoring that, he tentatively put his hand and fished the object out. It was warm on his fingers, seeping into his veins. It's skin- golden brown, it made his eyes big.

"Lou, where did you get bread," Harry asked in dis-belief, confused at the other's smirk. "Or rather, how did you get it? You know how expensive-"

"I think it's worth it for certain occasions, Harold," Louis cut in softly.

"What-" He stopped abruptly, breath catching with realization. " _Louis._ No. Not right now. What?"  

Louis nodded, "Of course, we are, love. We're getting married. Today."

So, like that, Harry spent the next half hour, gathering people to come for their mini ceremony in their cottage. They ended up inviting Louis' and Harry's family, along with Niall, Liam and Zayn. When Harry came back with a flushed face, bearing news of arrival, Louis had a lace table-cloth spread out amongst the grass, big enough for two dozen people.

Zayn arrived first, getting them a canteen of homemade onion soup. Niall and Liam turned up together, teasing them endlessly. But, Niall had managed to work on matching dress-shirts for their ceremony with a little help from Liam. They changed into them immediately, to satisfy them.

Johannah came arm in arm with Mark, surrounded by the bubbly children. Lottie smirked at Harry, Felicite didn't say much- just smiled and the twin played around the flowers. Anne and her new partner, Robin came by with attempted homemade cake. 

Just before the flourish started, Louis pulled Harry aside. "You have all the choice in the world to run right now," he said, looking at his shoes. "You can't escape later when you want to."

Harry gave him a puzzled look, "What do you mean?"

"I'm telling it's your last chance," Louis bit out quietly. "If you feel that I'm not good enough."

Harry's eyebrows raised to their highest. He knew Louis felt like that when they were younger, but not till now. He shook his head. "You're stuck with me, chap, come along." He could hear Louis' laughter behind before he was followed.

All of them sat down on the spread out sheet. A platter of the bread planked in the middle, just between the to-be-couple. The rest of them sat around them, anxiously watching. "The elder one -Louis- you have to break it in half."

Louis did as he was told, triumphantly holding up a small piece of the flaky bread.

"Now, eat out of it," Anne answered, clapping as Louis followed. "Now, feed the rest of it to Harry."

Harry's eyes were gleaming with joy, as he opened his mouth to accept the offering from the stretched out hand.

"Now, Harry do the same," Johannah chimed in.

Harry took the other piece, breaking it into a smaller piece, eating half of it and feeding the other part to Louis. He didn't break eye-contact with him, not even for a minute second. Like they were the only ones there's. They were pulled back when their friends start howling.

Harry didn't know where all his enthusiasm came from when he burst out laughing, launching himself forward. He customarily wrapped his arms around the latter, tackling him till his back was to the ground. He knew everything was fine when Louis laughed twice as hard, squeezing him back. 

Louis' vision was slightly gone blurry, because, was Liam really crying? He wiped them with the collar of shirt, and looks back up to see that Liam wasn't crying, but Niall certainly was. "Mate, I can't believe it," Niall sniffled, "you've come so far."

And, yeah, even Louis couldn't believe it. It came to him as a dream, but never as something that could be a bridge to reality. It was so much better than how he had imagined it. If he had choose between that universe and this, he'd always choose this one. He was bound to. 

Liam shyly pushed a small box towards them. "Clothes might not be my thing," he told them hesitantly. "I've been practicing a little welding."

Harry then, wrapped the box of it's delicate ribbon, seeing as it slipped undressed. Into a block of sponge, sat tucked in two imperfectly shaped rings, identically dissimilar. He blabbered out his thanks, jumping to jam one onto Louis' hand and not sitting down until Louis did the same thing.

Anne and Johannah were already sobbing. The girls were calm and composed compared to the others, and Mark and Robin simply watched what happened with a smile. The sun had set already, pulling away the evening with it. Zayn hopped over, with the bowls he had gathered in the cottage, handing each one to everybody and pouring ample amounts of the soup into it. When he sat down, he raised his bowl as to make a toast. "To Harry and Louis, the foreordained couple!"

Everybody murmured agreement and drained their soup, along with the cake Anne brought along. Niall and Liam might have picked a few berries here of there on the way. By the time Louis and Harry go to the pond to clean themselves (and naughtily snog, don't tell) and come back, they all stand and stretch.

"You're leaving already?" Louis asked, albeit yawning.

"Well, you're not exactly fully married. We have the clothes-burning to do tomorrow. And you both have to get to that," Johannah smirked, laughing when both of them turn pink. "Don't fall asleep yet, you're going to have a _long_ night."

"Niall's gone to tend your fire," Robin said, before walking away.

Niall came back, looking surprised. He pulled Louis aside. "I educated you on this, Louis. Don't worry, you'll do fine." When Louis began to protest, Niall jogged off. "Don't worry, mate! Just follow your instincts!"

He looked back at Harry, who ducked his head upon meeting eyes. He could see his blush even under the dim light of the stars. He smiled, walking over. It felt easy, very usual when he slipped his hand into Harry's. But, what made it special was the feeling of Harry's ring brushing against his skin. The coldness reminded him that finally, they were each other's.

He traced his thumb over the skin on Harry's hand. "Alright?" He earned a hum from him. "Let's go back inside."

So, they walked slowly, reassuring each other telepathically. They entered, hoping that nothing will go wrong. (Zayn had a long wooden board for a temporary door so that they don't get interrupted in the middle) Louis could tell that Harry's shaking. His other hand trailed up to Harry cheek. He couldn't stop touching him, and it was driving him crazy. "Haz? Are you okay?"

Harry looks up, dubiously. "Y-Yeah, of course I am."

"We don't have to do it tonight, you know? We can postpone it to some other day," Louis purses his lips. He still wanted to touch Harry, badly. But if he's not allowed to, he'll have to live with that.

"Oh, no," Harry jumps in. "We can't be half married for days, Lou. Besides, we've had tons of foreplay, taking it all the way won't be that hard." He paused. "Will it?"

"You do realize that I have the same amount of experience as you?" Louis asked, and Harry's shoulders sagged a little out of relief. "We'll figure it out."

Harry looked up, dead in his eyes. He chewed on his lip nervously. "What do you reckon we should do?"

Louis internally cursed, because holy nightlock, he was biting his lip. And there could be nothing as alluring as that. He could feel the arousal in the pit of his stomach, making his brain into mush. "Urm, kiss?" Then, before he realised what he was properly initiating, Louis had scooped him into his arms, ignoring the surprised yelp Harry had let out. Had him pinned against the cot, hovering over him like an animal over prey. Harry's wide innocent eyes pushed him even more over the edge. He pushed a hand through his curls, pushing them back. "This okay?"

"Yeah, just. Just. Get on with it, Lou."

Louis chuckled to himself, dipped in to kiss him, sweet and filthy. Harry didn't catch on immediately, but got the hang of it after Louis pressed in, trying to take more than what was already there. His fumbling fingers went to fidget with Harry's chest. He peeled himself off of him.

"Lou," he whined, pulling him back in.

Louis chuckled against his lips, giving him what he wanted before moving to the column of his throat. "You're being too needy, don't you think?"

"You're the one who wanted it to get here," Harry breathed out, soon panting.

"Point," Louis bit down on his collarbone.

_"Louis."_

"Alright," Louis pushed himself up, but not moving away from his partial-husband. "Just remember, you were hesitant about this, just a minute ago." He clutched at the collar of Harry's shirt, correcting his angle. The seams were supposed to fall apart, to signify that it's like a promise that their relationship won't tear apart like their clothes. So, like that, Louis yanks his hands in back, the button strewn, rolling away from them as they clattered on the cold floor. He smirked, seeing Harry's dilated pupils, leaning next to his ear to whisper seductively. "The night has just begun, love."

The next morning, the sun was passing through the stained window. Louis woke up to Harry's head against his chest, his curls filling his mouth. Best way to wake up, he thought to himself, smiling. He was aching in all the right places, like the sting of the lines that Harry drew on his back or the bruises on his biceps from holding on too tight. This is perfect, he thought. 

But, his moment was broken when there's a repetitive banging on the (wood of a) door. "Get up, you two! It's late, Harry missed school, Louis has work! Don't make me come in there, I know you're starkers."

Harry groaned softly, trying to dig deep into Louis' chest to block out that horrible noise. "'Morning," Louis said quietly, still smiling like the lovesick fool he was.

Harry's eyes snapped open, grinning when catching a sight of his partial-husband. "'Morning back to you," he rose, stretching his insanely long limbs, reminding Louis vaguely of a cat. He gave him a dubious look when Louis didn't stop smiling. "Well, look at you. I'm feeling the love."

Louis pulled him down on top of him. "Of course, you're feeling it." He thumbed slyly at a particular dark red mark at the base of his throat, probably in round three.

Harry swatted his hand away, blushing like the cherub-faced boy he always was. The door is suddenly being pushed open. "No!" He shouted, almost falling off the bed. They were naked, obviously.

Liam stepped in, hand clamped over his eyes. "I'm not looking, I swear. Your mums sent you clothes since, urm, the ones you have are probably..."

"Yeah, thanks Liam," Louis dismissed him. They got dressed lazily and went out. For the next part of the ceremony, not everyone was there. Liam, Niall and Zayn as usual, they even bunked school to see them. Their mums, smiling like they haven't before.

"Harry's literally glowing," Zayn blurted out immediately.

Harry turned red when everyone started laughing, Louis snaked an arm around his waist, pulling him into his side. "You both look...sated," Anne supplied awkwardly, sharing a look with Johannah. Seriously, mums were not supposed to do that. It's highly childish.

"Was it good? "Niall nudged him. Louis pretended that he didn't hear.

They began a fire right behind the cottage, feeding it twigs and hay. When it got hot enough to burn into their eyes, they nourished it with the ripped clothes, the other boys sneakily laughing until Louis hit them upside the head. They were married. Actually really very married.

**ıllıllı**

All was a well, for a few months after their marriage. It wasn't exactly smooth, but it wasn't rocky either. They got through the day to hold each other at night. It was a cycle. The hope that the next day would be better than the previous one always kept them alive. The world wasn't made of them, so they made a world of their own.

Everything seemed halfway perfect. Hardships here and there, Harry studying for tests while Louis wanted to spend time with him or Harry sometimes falling asleep on the floor, waiting for Louis to come home. It wasn't always easy. 

Money was a different thing. Luckily, Louis got promoted quite quickly, which covered their basic priorities, and Harry went fruit picking or fishing in the mornings or evenings. He learnt fair trade in the black market, as well as cooking. A wonderful pond that took to their needs and a lot of trees for company.

But, that didn't mean that they were left in peace. Nobody knew about their marriage, but, they were still criticized. The insults got worse and harsher. The looks got burning. They knew in no time they'd be unbearable.

Harry was stripping a few vines of their berries, humming to himself as he poured into a wicker basket. He was hardly that from the cottage. That particular evening didn't feel like anything different, at all. He remembered that he had to get a pitcher full of water, when he felt the dryness in his throat. He froze when he heard a moan.

That meant somebody found them. Their secret lair.

He dropped the basket, striding towards the cottage consciously. At the door, was Louis, slumped over, vulnerable and almost unreal. "Louis!" He found himself cry out before he tripped his way to him.

As soon as he fell down next to him, Louis fell into his arms like a rag doll. "Harry," he whimpered brokenly. His eyes puffy and supplying a waterfall of tears.

Harry panicked, he didn't understand what had happened, or what attacked him. "Lou, it's alright. What happened? Tell me what happened." Shaking, he wrapped his arms around Louis' middle.

Louis let out a strangled sound, causing him to retract his arms. He lifted his shirt off delicately, as slow as possible. There was nothing on his front. On his back however, were welts. Red hot welts. Somebody had whipped him.

Harry could feel the sobs rising in his throat, he felt like he was ready to cry. "L-Lou. Who did this to you?"

Louis couldn't even correct his back, he buried his face in the crook of his neck, blabbering, crying hysterically. Harry couldn't see him like this, it was turning his intestines to slush, his eyes burned with unshed tears. "I'll help you up, okay?" He made Louis lean against him, since his knees wobbled, laying him down on his front on the cot. "I'll be back, okay? Stay here, wait for me."

He then ran. He ran like all his happiness was being plunged away, like all the melancholy in the world was digging its claws into his neck. He arrived at his mum's house. Breaking the door open, he sprinted in. His mother looked surprised on his arrival. "Harry, dear? What are you- are you crying?"

"It's Louis, mum," he finally cried out. The wails wracked his body. "Somebody hurt him, mum. So badly. I-I-"

"Harry, what do you mean?" Anne was kneeling next him, but he couldn't see the concern on her face. "Baby, you gotta tell me what's wrong."

"I don't know what's wrong," he hissed exasperatedly. He needed to get back. "I came here to borrow butter. Can I have it, please?"

"Harry-"

"Mum, butter."

Anne scurried into the kitchen, racing back out with a block of watery butter. "Harry, tell me-"

"Don't tell anyone, please, I'll come back and explain!" Then, he was running back again. He picked up a tub of the cold water gushing by the pond, acquired a sponge with half of the money he saved, but he couldn't care less. When he got back, Louis was still crying into his pillow.

Before he can break down, he was quick to move. He piled a few twigs up and lights them on fire outside. The heat made him want to cry more. He dumped the butter into a wonky skillet and left it simmer into a clarified state till the residues would settle at the bottom.

Harry tried to compose himself, as he kneeled next to him by the cot. "Lou, darling, I'm right here," he slid his fingers into Louis's dangling hand. "If you feel me, can you squeeze my hand? Please let me know that you're with me?" He received a minute beat, then a harder grip that turns his fingers purple. "I'm right here, Louis."

He held back tears as he soaked the sponge in the water, gently patting the angry lines on Louis's back. He could feel the heat radiating from them. He didn't understand why someone would be so harsh. So harsh to shamelessly hurt someone that they're under critical care. "You're doing so well, love, you're enduring it, 'm so proud of you." His voice cracked, but he prayed Louis didn't notice.

Louis flinched, his teeth gritting as his back twitched. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead, as he fought to keep the pain down. But it felt alarming. When the sponge touched them, it was like ice on fire, only that it got worse. "Haz," he sobbed, not being able to help it. "I-I. I _hurts_. It hurts so much."

Harry squeezed his fingers, leaning down to whisper in his ear. "I know, darling, but you've almost made it. You're _so_ doing well. Think you can take it for a few more minutes? Just a few more." He doused his sponge in the water, only to realize that it was warm. Louis' wounds were that bad.

"I'd rather die," Louis wailed hysterically. "I-"

"Lou, c'mon, stop concentrating on the pain." Harry tilted the latter's head so that it was facing him. Louis' drooping eyes met his with such tremors under his eyelids. He leaned in to kiss him. "Distract yourself."

Louis' movements were sluggish, lips glued to Harry's for too long, having to slightly jolt up when Harry pressed too hard with the sponge. It was getting better, at least it wasn't like the hot white blinding pain like the one minutes before.

Harry gave him one last reassuring kiss, before he wordlessly picked up his tub and went outside. He poured it out into the flowers. The butter was done clarifying, so he picked it up carefully and set it at the door. He went back to the pond for cold water again. But, he let the tub fall into the water as he sat on a rock and cried his poor eyes out.

When he got back again, Louis was still against the bed. So still that Harry thought he was dead. He took the clarified-butter skillet, placing it next to him where he sat previously, while letting it cool down by flapping a hand-fan over it. "Lou, you're awake, aren't you?"

Louis didn't answer, he just fluttered open his eyes, staring at him blankly. "Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry," he confessed. Harry couldn't say anything, he looked down, his hand not stopping with the fan and the other with the sponge. "I know you cried, your eyes are red and your voice is scratchy." He stopped Harry's hand on his back by steadying arm. "Thank you. I'm sorry."

"How did this happen?" Harry asked instead.

Louis glanced away, sucking in one side of his cheek. That wasn't a good sign, because that meant Louis was anxious. "Right before I asked you to marry me, I was with Zayn at his place. A Peacekeeper. He wasn't a nice guy. Thought it would be fine to mess with me. About us, I mean. So, I confronted him. I knew he'd get back."

Harry had stopped sponging his back, not skilfully applying the clarified butter to the welts with a docile finger, relishing when Louis let out sated sighs. "How did this happen though?" He asked with pursed lips, determined to stay concentrated on his back,

"Well," Louis said shakily, Harry knew it was getting to him. "I w-was walking home, when a sack got pulled over my head, and, and next thing I saw was that we were at the edge of the wood, where the flag is generally hoisted for special occasions, you know? T-They -two other guys were with him- tied me to the p-pole and they-" He promptly burst into tears.

Harry smoothed back the hair on his husband's forehead, his own eyes glistening with tears. "You absolute idiot. You went through all that for me? For us? Only so I could see you like this?"

Louis steadied him with his gaze, the tears still cascading without an end. He sniffled, "You know I'd do anything for you." As to promise it, he took Harry's hand in his hanging one and placed a tender kiss on one of the knuckles. "I thought I expressed that long ago."

Harry looked away. Not if it goes this far, he thought. Not in exchange for Louis' life.

 **ıllıllı**        

Nothing happened for a long time after that. Harry didn't leave Louis' side till he was healed, occasionally just retrieving food supplies, or even making the boys do it. Anne couldn't keep it in, so, both their mums came running the next morning. He had him nursed in four days, happy that Louis was finally walking around without flinching. He still winced when he shrugged on a shirt, but that didn't matter compared to the other development.

They were finally settling into ease after three weeks, a sense of relief in their ribs that they didn't have  anymore threat from anywhere, considering that idiotic Peacekeeper had taken his personal revenge. Seriously, nothing could go wrong, could it?

Of course, not.

Harry was cooking lunch on a Saturday, sitting by the paraffin stove, tending it by a stick. Louis was due back from collecting the meat in their newly set up snares. They were doing better together now, things have gotten better. Harry would be cut slack of his last school year, then get a job, a nice place. Things seemed to setting into their places.

He was humming _Springtime_ when Louis came grinning out of the bushes. "Got quite the bait today," he said, emphasizing by lifting his arm up to show two sleek trout. "We'll have a feast today, and then probably salt some up for later."

Harry hummed once again, this time in approval, taking the fish from him. He would have to pickle a little for later. He was about to go back in when he heard rustling in the bushes. He froze, spinning around to meet Louis' eyes. He mirrored his panic. But, instead, came out Niall.

"Niall, mate." Harry breaths, "Scared us there."

Niall didn't reply. And, there was something wrong, definitely. He was panting wildly, his cheek flaming red. When he looked up, his eyes were glassy of something uncertain. He posture was hunched, something he didn't have, considering he was a happy-go-lucky lad. "Guys."

Louis, just like his husband, detected something wrong. "Niall, what's wrong?"

Niall crunched his eyebrows together, fear swallowing the ceramic blue in his eyes. He glanced at Louis, then at Harry. "You guys have to leave. Now!"

"Niall-" Harry started, clearly something _was_ wrong and he didn't what it was. 

"They found out about you," Niall trembled. "The Capitol knows now, they're coming for you. They'll find this place in not time. They're interrogating your mums now. Johannah told me to tell you that you have to leave, right now. C'mon!"

"What do you mean _leave_?" Louis spat out. "We can't just _leave_! What are we supposed to do? The Capitol found out?!"

"Leave!" Niall raised his voice, almost nearing a scream. "You don't a choice, dammit! Just leave!"

"We can't just leave everyone!" Harry threw his plea in.

"You don't have a choice," Niall glared at him. "Your mums are telling you to leave, Zayn and Liam would agree if they knew!"

"Where will we go?" Louis' tone became morose than anything.

Niall paced back and forth, racking his brain. Because, there wasn't a place where the Capitol wouldn't be. He stopped and suddenly snapped his fingers. "District thirteen!"

Louis frowned. "Niall, we can't go there! There's nothing except rubble and it's blown to bits! How are we going to live?!"

"It's better than nothing," Niall supplied. "You can get your own food and live by your means, they won't know you're there. As for company, you'll have each other, that's enough for a little while." He paused. "Besides, there's talk that people have already started gathering there for the upcoming rebellion, I'm sure you won't be alone."

That's exactly why they were now, running through the woods. The squirrels ran from them, as they tripped over roots and scrunched over the dried leaves. The blocked sunlight didn't do them any better. Harry squeezed his sweaty palm around Louis' tighter. The adrenaline was getting to him, his gut kept saying that something bad would happen. He didn't want to think about the things that would haunt them in the future. He was concentrated on his legs. They were going into one of those expensive jellies -at the confectioner's- soon.

He plunged to the ground, pulling Louis down along with him. However, Louis brushed himself off, jumping up. "C'mon Harry! The faster we get there, better!" He paused to look through the torn map, before turning to Harry again.

They began running again, Harry began having second thoughts on skipping lunch. They should have packed lunch for a bit of energy, but Niall pushed them off without even a spare pair of clothes. He didn't want to know where their road went, or where it lead to. Harry could feel the sun sipping the glucose out of him. "Lou," he rasped. "Lou, it's stop. For a second. Please."

Louis peered at him, pushing his wet hair back, eyes full of concern. "Take your time, love." He walked by the near trees, checking once in a while to see if Harry was still seated at the foot of the silk-cotton tree they stopped at. When he found the one, he looked around for a sharp stone, scratching its bark out. When it was naked enough, he stabbed it enough for sap to come out. He collected some in his cupped hands, took it for his husband to drink.

Harry was eager on seeing liquid, he lapped it up cleanly, right off of Louis' hands. When he realized it was over, he looked at Louis apologetically. Louis chuckled softly, a little fatigue lining his voice. "It's alright, there are so many trees." He looked around, the forest was dense. He turned back to Harry. "What do you say about us staying the night in the forest? We could find another tree like this and sleep inside the trunk?"

Harry widened his eyes, "You sure?"

"Yeah-" Louis began to say, but quickly cut himself off. He flipped his head around, jerking his chin up as if to take in something. "Harry," he said slowly, on realization. "The birds have stopped singing."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "So?"

Louis didn't answer his question, he jolted him onto his feet, pulling him to sprint away. "Hurry up! C'mon! We don't-"

The rest of Louis' voice was drowned out by the sound of the flapping of heavy wings. Or that's what it seemed like. Harry squinted his eyes, trying to get a glimpse of the sky. The trees no longer were a canopy for them. They were being chopped away extensively by blades. From a hovercraft. From the Capitol.

Before Harry could react, the under-doors of the craft slid open and a harpoon swooped down towards them. They found them, they had to run. Sprint. Fast. Faster. "Louis, duck!"

Louis did duck, thank goodness. Harry sighed in relief turning back to Louis. "Thank-" he stopped. Louis was clutching his stomach, trying to balance himself on his feet. In the middle of his chest, the harpoon sliced right through him, a clean cut. His shirt was drenched in blood. His eye watered up, as he dropped to his knees, choking.

Harry's heart almost broke his ribcage. He let out a bone chilling scream, knees seizing to the ground. He pulled Louis' head into his lap, like how they it used to be when he was younger. He didn't realize he was crying until a fat drop plopped onto Louis' cheek. His eyes flew open.

"H-Harry," he gasped, hiccupping in more air, like he was not getting it. He pressed his hand to the wound on his chest, soaking it in blood.

"Louis," Harry sobbed, blubbering. "Don't. Please, stay with me."

Louis gulped, a tear trickled out from the corner of his eye. The white in them had turned red in no time, meaning, his blood vessels began bursting. "I'm a-afraid I can't listen to you this one, one time, Haz."

Harry slapped on the cheek, albeit just enough to keep his eyes open. "You can't do that! I won't let you do that! I'll take you back, Niall can fix you up."

Louis laughed wryly, his voice becoming more strained. "Weak at maths, are you, now?" He grunted in pain. "You have an idea how far we ran, Styles?"

Harry shook his head, tears now falling at a rapid rate. "It's Tomlinson. Not Styles."

Louis smiled again, soft and small and weak. "A-Accepting that you want to be t-tied down, now?" When Harry nodded like his head was going to loll off his neck, he steadied him by his cheek with a bloody hand. "Cry over me, okay? But not too much. Remember me by happy things."

Harry nodded shakily. "I don't want you to go though," he whispered.

"That's not in our hands, is it," Louis let out a loud cry of pain. He breathed out harshly. "God, I thought whipping hurt, it isn't even a fraction of how I feel right now." Harry let out another wail, slapping his hand over his mouth. "W-What are the odds of me being in your favour?" 

Harry felt a shiver run down his smile. Those words were said a lifetime ago, where things were worse to become better. Now, it's being said for good things to become worse. Then, it was for a beginning, now for an end. The world is an unfair place. He laughed wetly, sliding his fingers into Louis' sticky ones, leaning down to let their noses brush. Mouth over mouth, as if saying the words into Louis'. Overlapping because they said the same things, thought the same ones. Harry began to accept that Louis' body wasn't forever, but his soul was. He could feel it in the wind if he wanted to. In the crunchy leaves under his foot or in the chocolate he'll drink every night. He breathed, "Maybe in another life."

Louis smiled, private and weak. "I'll be off then," he let out a loud wail, blood seeping out more and more by the second. It was taking him, he could see it.

"I love you," Harry said softly, pushing his hair back.

"I love-" Louis broke off with a rock in his throat. He looked at Harry one last time, just briefly before falling against his knee. Limp. Soul-less.

Harry allowed his tears to fall, his sobs to rack him now. He had plenty of time to cry. An eternity of it. He felt like he was nothing without Louis, though it wasn't that way. He had nowhere to go, no home. No sanctuary of his own. He had no one by his side, where he would be going. It was like purgatory, only much much worse.

"Louis," he bawled into the man's frail chest, fist clenching when it wasn't warm like it usually was. Louis wasn't going to jump up and prank him again, his lips won't pull into a teasing smile. When Harry will kiss him, he won't kiss back.

He didn't realize how close the hovercraft had gotten, now only yards away in the air, chopping down more and more greenery. Harry snapped his head upto see that another thing was coming out of the slid open doors. Out sprang a large mechanical claw, it moved closer with its expendable thick wire, bigger than Harry himself. Before Harry could realize what was going on, the claw shackled itself around his torso, suspending into the air.

Harry struggled, squirming back and forth while screaming his lover's name. "Louis!" He wanted one last glance of Louis, even through his blurry vision, without that harpoon interrupting him. He was pulled inside without the wish completely. Louis's name was on the tip of his tongue when he passed out. He knew it was glued there, that it wouldn't leave till he saw his lover in the next world, whenever.

  **ıllıllı**      

Liam stared down at the enormous table spread out in front of him. The array of food was supposed to make him hungry, make his hands involuntarily reach out and stuff his mouth till his stomach will hurt. But he couldn't bring himself to. He couldn't eat with the thought that Death was waiting to beckon him into it's arms.

He didn't think he would get Reaped in his last year, but when are the odds ever in his favour? Expectations are sometimes painfully turned down. So, now, he was, seated before a wide table bearing the amount of food to feed his, Niall's and Zayn's family for two whole weeks. They were raising him like a pig for slaughter. Just to give him a bunch of luxuries, only in vain, only to waste all of it. The thought was nauseous.  

He wondered how the boys were doing without him. When he was about to leave, he remembered Niall falling into his lap and crying while Zayn stood there with a clenched jaw, trying to show all his courage, but leaking through his façade. Their token -a badly tailored handkerchief- burning in his pocket.

Thinking of his friends, made his mind shift to Harry and Louis. They had left almost eight months ago, he hoped they reached District 13, like Niall instructed them to. They left without meeting anybody else, which was a huge downer. Louis had innocent siblings, who asked for him. But, he knew they'd never come back. There was a fissure in the group, something they couldn't fix, but couldn't ignore.  

"Liam," the shrill voice pulled him back from his thoughts. Phebe looked across at him expectantly, with her painted eyebrows and artificially glowing skin. After all, she was a Capitol representative, unfortunately reaped him with her cursed hands. "Which world are you lost in? Eat up, you need a lot of energy for training tomorrow." She paused, "On second thoughts, you can do that later. Alonso finished styling a few outfits, you should take a look at them."

She called for someone, again in her cringe-worthy shrill voice. A cart showcasing several dresses was being pushed to the front, emerging from inside. His voice died when he saw the person who was pushing it. Harry.

"Harry!" he managed to cry, face pale.

Phebe turned to stare at him, "What are you on about, Liam? It's just an Avox."

He couldn't believe Harry was an Avox. They had found him. They didn't reach District 13, the realization kind of hurt. He didn't know where Louis was, but here he saw Harry, with his tongue cut off, treated like nothing but a slave. Everyone back at District 8 thought they were happy where ever they were. God forbid them know the truth. It couldn't get worse than this. "But-" Liam was cut off. 

"Silly Liam," Stitch quipped in, clearly trying to cover for him. He didn't know her, but she still was a nice person despite knowing they'd have to compete against each other. "Didn't you know that there are seven people in the world who look alike? Your head is messed up!"

He looked towards Harry, the boy mirroring his surprise. It seemed like nothing changed, the same Harry that he once knew. Only to know that there was definite scars on the inside. He looked away from Liam's gaze and gulped. The way he swallowed was different too, Phebe wasn't joking when she said he didn't have a tongue.

Liam didn't say anything for the rest of the meal, quietly sipping on his water for having lost his appetite. He crawled into bed with the clothes he came in, rubbing the handkerchief in his pocket between his fingers, trying to grasp the feeling of home from it.

He got up in the middle, realizing that it would be morning in a few hours, and he didn't sleep at all. The idea almost snapped in half when it came to his head. He filled a glass of water, placing at the edge of his bedside chest. He pushed it down, flinching at the glass shattering. He was quick to press the alarm.

In no time, Harry came running into the room, freezing when his eyes fell on his friend. He quietly strode in, bending down and picking up the glass pieces with his bare hand. Liam bent down next to him, pretending to help him out. "Is this room bugged?" he whispered, lips unmoving.

Harry shook his head without looking up.

Liam jumped up, pulling Harry onto his feet before wrapping his arms bone-crushingly. He could feel the tears spring to the corner of his eyes, positive that Harry was just as emotional as he felt. He pushed himself back with hyaline eyes. "What? How did you end up here, Harry?"

Harry smiled sadly, looking down. His eyes looked tired, like he did enough crying for a lifetime that he could do no more.

Liam choked out, "You really are an Avox?"

Harry nodded stiffly.

"God," Liam sniffed, unable to look at him. He didn't know why he felt so guilty. Whether it was the fact that he was facing the truth or because he thought a little of this was his fault. "Where's, where's Louis?"

Harry didn't say anything, as he couldn't anyways. He tilted his head up to look at the ceiling, slowly bringing his hand up to point to where the sky would be. Where Heaven would be.

Liam let out a sob. He couldn't sleep knowing all this, he couldn't sleep thinking his friends thought they had a happily every after. Thinking their mums thought they were better off where they were. When in the end, they got separated, in such brutal ways.

Harry shook his head, patting Liam's shoulder for him to look at him. He pointed at the ceiling once again, spreading his thumb and index finger over his mouth to gesture that Louis was happy where he was. He smiled wider when he pointed to himself and looked at the ceiling, nodding like approving. Which only meant one thing.

Harry would have his happy too. Only a little later. Only with one person. Only with that one Louis. 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I made up a few stuff in this, so if you have queries don't be scared to comment!  
> Thanks for reading! xx


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